Found Him at the Crossroads
by iS2.coheed.and.cambria
Summary: It’s Dean’s last day, but Sam isn’t going to let him go, no matter what. Even if it means he may not make it, “That’s right I’m at the crossroads, Dean… Time to fall down on my knees.”


**Title: **Found Him at the Crossroads

**Author: **T (for death and suicide attempt and pretty much depressing stuff)

**Summary: **It's Dean's last day, but Sam isn't going to let him go, no matter what. Even if it means he may not make it, death fic "That's right I'm at the crossroads, Dean… Time to fall down on my knees."

**Disclaimer: **I do not own ANYTHING that has to do with supernatural!

A/N: Ok I've been working on this for a while. I actually expected it to be really short like two pages in word. God knows how it got to be 15 lol Anways hope you enjoy and please, please review )

The lever slowly slid into park as a deep sigh escaped his lips. His plan had been made and on some level of his subconscious he knew his fate had been set.

It took more than ounces of his pure will and desire to admit that the steady and never-ending chanting in the background was true.

Death would come soon to him.

"You know it… I know it." He whispered to the steering wheel, tightening his grip on it.

The 365 days that had led up to this moment now seemed like seconds on a stopwatch. Tiny, insignificant measures of time and experience that added up to a larger and much more important whole.

The time it took to run a mile.

The time it took to find what you were looking for.

The time it took for the timer to click and the white flag to be thrown in.

A time to lie down and give up. The time when 365 is less than a day away. When it's this day. This moment.

This day was meant to be the death of a Winchester. That's how the fates planned it, that's how everyone expected it to go. There was no use in fighting destiny. In fighting the older, more stubborn brother. Today was meant to be the death of the older Winchester. The one that saved his brother all those years ago and was determined to do it again.

However the other, younger Winchester sits at the crossroads now, determined that it be him instead.

"Me instead," the younger whispers, "Me instead."

Sam now stands next to the hotwired car and hears a door slam shut. He looks around frantically for the origin of the noise, panicked that its Dean and those sleeping pills had failed him.

It took a few more seconds for him to register he was on his own two feet. There. Next to the crossroads and the slam had been him closing the door on backing out.

"That's right I'm at the crossroads, Dean… Time to fall down on my knees."

He made his way to the trunk of the car that belonged to god knows who, tracing it with his index finger. He lifted the trunk door in one, swift motion and stared at the gray metal box sitting directly in the middle, mocking him.

Sam took in a deep apprehensive breath and reached in for the box, the only thing separating him right now from saving his brother. His Dean. The trunk door slammed shut and Sam shut his eyes along with it. Maybe if he couldn't see his surroundings they wouldn't be real.

Maybe if Sam just shut his eyes and never opened them again they would be back to a year ago. Maybe his eyes would open to see Jake hovering over him, about to proclaim that Ava wasn't there. Maybe, just maybe none of this had really happened.

When Sam opened his eyes nothing had changed, except now he was standing at the middle of the crossroads. His feet had somehow mechanically moved there, as if they were controlling him. Like his body was taking control of what needed to be done since his head wasn't quite there yet.

Now Sam stood. Circling around, surveying the area as if it held some sort of clue. Some idea of what should happen next. That's when it all became clear.

Sam knew what he had to do. He knew the exact words he would say. He wondered momentarily if he, himself would walk out of this one alive, but then quickly disregarded the insignificant worry. It wasn't Sam that worried Sam right now. The only thing that worried Sam at this moment was the world, the greater good. How could they win the war with a potentially evil hunter on their side? How could they beat the demons if Sam was there to jeopardize their efforts?

How could Sam risk everything?

But more importantly, who could control Sam once Dean was gone? There was no one. There was no one else to save him. Funny how the person always saving others suddenly needed all the saving in the world, and the one person who could do that was about to be gone forever. Lost because his little brother screwed up? Gone because he was weak and needed to be saved once again?

Sam would not be saved. He would not allow it.

But he would allow himself one thing, his one last wish.

He would save one last person, and he'd be happy if it were the last thing he did, regardless of the outcome it would have on the rest of the world. Nothing or the difference between winning and loosing.

Sam fell down to his knees and drilled his hands into the dirt road beneath him as if they were power tools. He dug desperately when he heard his name.

"Hello Sam."

His head snapped to the side and the tin box fell into his vision. It sat on the dirt, not even in the small hole he had made yet.

"Yeah that's right. All that trouble you went through to get that box together behind Dean's back. Worthless."

"You've been following me." Sam whispered just loud enough for the demon to hear.

"Come on, Sam You know I haven't that much time on my hands, I am a very busy gal." She said in a mocking tone.

"Demon. You're no girl, you're demon." Sam spat at the ground, still not having the guts to turn around and see the soon to be owner of his soul.

"Whatever terminology you wish to use either way… I'm the one who'll be taking Dean in what? 25 minutes?"

Sam suddenly found his strength at the small reminder of his brother's fate and spun around and stood before her, anger brewing in his glassy eyes, "You're not taking my brother anywhere."

The demon held an evil smirk on her features, in any other circumstances Sam would be immediately attracted to this petite brunette, but the demon had a way of twisting her to make her so ugly, so full of pure evil. Sam continuously pushed aside the urge to lunge at her and tear her to pieces.

She laughed, honestly amused at Sam's words and said, "Don't try to play demon, you may just become one."

Sam gagged inwardly at the idea but said nothing mainly because he didn't have the chance to the demon was quick to say it's next words.

"So tell me Sam, why'd you come here tonight? You think you can destroy me? Kill me? You think you're better than me Sammy?" she asked inching closer to him.

"No. I don't." Sam whispered, "I can't beat you, I've researched long enough to know that."

The demon smiled up at him, now standing inches away from him, "Then you're here to-"

"Make a deal." Sam finished for her.

The demons eyes lit up at the idea but then quickly contained her excitement and said, "And what deal would that be?"

Sam swallowed hard and then said, "You leave Dean out of this and take me instead, give me one year. Just like him."

The demon chuckled and then asked, "And why would I do that?"

"Because you know my soul is much more valuable to you demons than Dean's is. Hell would be much happier to have me as their newest addition."

The demon smiled and said, "You sure think of yourself highly, dontcha? What makes you think you're so important?"

Sam smiled, "Because I still have the powers yellow-eyes gave me." Sam lied, "Because I'm too much of a threat to you demons, all of you would rather have me tucked away downstairs then killing you all up here."

"You don't have you're powers, don't take me for an idiot. Others have told me how your powers disappeared with his death."

"You should know better than I that demons lie. I've heard over the past year that there are quite a few of you that didn't like the powers I had, am I right? How do you know they didn't lie to you?" Sam said in his most convincing tone.

The demon pondered the idea but kept a straight face throughout. She moved closer to Sam and placed her hands on his shoulders, massaging them, "Are you sure you want to do this Sammy? Think about all the demons your family has sent to hell that no longer have your father for a punching bag. They're going to torture you so bad. They're going to make you beg for it to end, but it never will. You'll be down there for eternity. You think they'll really let you try to climb out? The boy king?"

Sam felt light tears fill the rims of his eyes but they stayed hidden even as he whispered, "Better me than Dean. Just give me one year and I'll go willingly."

The demon shook her head, "Hell's been waiting a year for a Winchester and they expect to get their claws on one in 20 minutes. You go now, or Dean goes now."

Sam shut his eyes tight. He was scared to go down there, but he knew he had no option. It was him or Dean.

"Fine… just do it." Sam whispered, the demon slowly moved in for the kiss but then quickly he backed away and asked, "How do I know Dean'll be ok?"

The demon cocked her head to the side and said, "Well there's always my word." Sam rolled his eyes but she continued, "But there's not much of a choice you have right? Better you than Dean."

Sam stared at the floor but then looked up and met her eyes giving a small nod. The demon quickly dove in and penetrated his lips with the most passionate kiss a girl had ever tried to give him.

The kiss of death.

Sam could almost taste the sulfur on his lips and the venom seeping from her tongue as he suddenly collapsed back onto his knees. The most agonizing pain he had ever felt in his entire life had erupted in his chest. His organs ripped inside of him as his lungs filled up with unwanted blood. His vision swam as he slowly lifted his eyelids to see the demon standing over him, the same smirk spread wide across her face.

A loud agonizing scream ripped through his vocal chords, the pain now engulfing him. A small prelude to the rest of eternity rolled in a nutshell of pain.

He laid on the ground for a few minutes and suddenly the realization popped into his head. He wasn't dead yet.

"W-w-why?" Sam sutured, coughing up blood.

"Why aren't you dead yet?" the demon asked simply.

"Ye…" Sam managed to get out.

"Well Sam, you have 15 minutes left." The demon said, her smile growing slightly wider.

"Nnoo… T-ta-ke…" Sam whispered, his eyes getting heavier.

"Sam I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't give you your fair amount of time." She paused, "Besides don't know want to say goodbye to Dean?"

Sam's tired eyes suddenly shot open and in the distance he heard his brother, calling his name.

"Nnno… Y-y-ou c-can-'t l-let-t 'im f-find-d m-me l-like th-th-this-s…"

The demon bent down next to him and used her thumb to wipe away some of the blood on Sam's face, "Now, Sam I would love to stay and keep you company in your final moments, but I see Dean has that covered. I better go and get in line for you downstairs right?"

Sam shook his head forcefully, but the demon just stood up and said, "See ya soon, Sammy." Before disappearing.

"N-n-o… P-p-ple-as-se…." Sam begged breathlessly to no one.

"Sammy! Sammy, please are you here?"

- - - - - - -

When had woken up to the sound of a car alarm going of in the motel parking lot he shot up like a bullet. In less than a second he was sitting up in bed and shoving himself up against the headboard, horrified.

How did he fall asleep?

His head shot to the side, eyes and mind begging to see Sam sound asleep next to him. But he was gone. There was no one there.

"No, no, no, no, no, no…" Dean whispered to himself. Even though the pull of the sleeping pills was reaching out to him he stood up on wobbly legs and searched for his boots desperately.

Once he had them on he glared at his watch.

He only had 25 minutes left. 

Dean moved like lightening through the door and down three flights of stairs. He made it all the way to the parking lot and pulled his car keys from his pocket before shoving them into the keyhole.

Dean was in the Impala and on his way in minutes, but it did little because he had no idea where Sam had gone.

He had remembered from before they got there, Dean had scoped out the area while he went out for 'food' and had found at least 6 crossroads in the vicinity, all about 5 minutes away. The bad thing was that they were all in completely different directions.

Dean turned right and started driving. He reached two of the crossroads he had found before and to his dismay, Sam wasn't at either of them. Dean was going to continue in another direction when an event from yesterday popped into his head.

- - - - - - -

_The Impala cruised down an old dirt road as Metalica softly hummed in the background. Sam was driving for a change and usually the driver would pick music, but Dean had played the 'last ride in the Impala card a while ago and Sam didn't have the heart not to let him listen to his god awful music. The car drive had been silent, neither of the brothers had even thought about stating the awkward truth that they both knew was coming. But as they passed a crossroads on their way to the motel Dean whispered, "One more day."_

_Sam quickly looked up at his brother, his eyes teary and blurred. He met the image of his brother's face, staring at the room ahead them. No tears to be seen._

"_No." Sam whispered, "One more day for me."_

- - - - - - -

Dean had ignored his comment, not wanting to admit that Sam had been planning this the entire time. The Impala skidded on the road as Dean threw it into a fierce u-turn. He knew where Sam had gone.

The only place he would have known to go to.

The Impala zoomed down the street. Past a crossroads. Past the motel. Past another crossroads. Dean knew Sam better than anyone on this earth. He knew Sam would be where he was going.

Dean came upon his planned spot and saw a car parked in the middle of the road. A car parked there by a driver not expecting anyone to come around for a while. Before Dean even got there he rolled down the window and screamed his brother's name. Not a second could be wasted.

When Dean heard nothing being called back he slammed the car into park even before hitting the goddamn breaks. The harshness of his stop caused his head to fly inches from the windshield but he caught himself by pushing himself hard back against the seat and throwing open the door hard enough to cause it to snap off.

"Sammy! Sammy, please are you here?"

Dean slowly walked around the car, mainly because he was afraid of what he'd find on the other side.

Dean Winchester had faced some scary things in his life. He'd faced things that would make most die from shock, die from pure and undeniable horror. Sheer fear.

But nothing had ever scared this hunter so much in his life. Nothing had threatened to kill from shock. Because in front of him lay his brother, blood gushing out past his lips, tears of sadness and pain sliding down his cheeks gracelessly. There was his brother. Dying at the crossroads.

This was supposed to be him.

"Oh god no!" Dean cried out the tears already springing to his eyes, "Oh god no, please. Oh my… Sammy… No…"

Sam blinked away tears and soon saw Dean kneeling over him, his face scrunched together as tears spilled out. Sam felt another choking cough come up, filled with blood and insides.

Dean knelt over his brother, scared to touch him, scared to even try to move him. His eyes traced over Sam in search of any injuries he could help. Any thing that was happening on the _outside_ but found nothing. Sam's injuries were untouchable.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, his voice no longer trembling but a weak whisper. A noise only a nearly dead man could make.

"Why, Sam? I told you not to! I begged you!" Dean yelled down at his brother's weak form. Sam flinched from the words and felt their sting. The hurt they carried numbed the pain for seconds, the emotional shock stood more painful than failing organs.

"Had… Had t-to save you…" Sam whispered, his eyes closing momentarily and opening lightly a few seconds later.

Dean tried to put his arms around Sam and pick him up. Maybe if he could get him to the Impala he'd be able to get him to the hospital or something, anything. When he lifted his brother slightly however, Sam let out a harsh cry of pain. Dean quickly put his brother back down.

Dean fell down on his heels and tried to wipe away his tears. He closed his eyes for a moment and heard the soft noises Sam was making in the back of his throat to try to cope through the pain. Dean couldn't imagine the agony his brother was probably in.

Dean suddenly stood up, well aware that he (or Sam) only had about ten minutes left. Sam watched him as he stood and circled around.

"Come back! Come back you bitch!" Dean screamed at the top of his lungs, "We had a deal! Please, we had a deal…"

"Dean… Sh-she won't come back-k… They w-want me m-more…" Sam whispered gently.

"She'll come back." Dean said harshly

Sam lay on the floor a couple more minutes listening helplessly to his brother desperately call for a demon that would not come. Dean stopped suddenly and pulled his phone out from his pocket, dialing the sticky 3 digits he hoped he'd never have to use. Dean waited but heard no ring. Instead he heard a beep and when he looked at the phone screen it read 'no service'. Dean threw the phone as far as he could before crumbling down to his knees in sadness and frustration.

Sam gasped. The pain was increasing slowly throughout him and before he had a chance to stop it he let out a loud moan of pain.

Dean attention shifted to his brother and in seconds he was back down by his brother's side grasping his hands. Sam's back arched in pain as he squeezed his eyes shut. Sam's hands dug into Dean's as he squeezed as hard as he could as if it would dull the agony.

"Shh…" Dean hushed, now realizing there was little he could do except try to make Sam comfortable in his final moments.

"P-pr-omise me?" Sam whispered, the pain reaching new heights as he gasped and his face contorted.

Dean gripped onto Sam's hand harder and asked, "Promise what?"

"P-promise you'll l-live… And get married… Have kids? S-send some e-vil s-sons of b-bitches d-downst-stairs t-to se-e me?" Sam whispered.

Dean shook his head and said, "God, Sam! You can't go there. I won't let you go there!"

"Y-you h-have to…" Sam whispered, "N-nothing you… c-can do…" Sam smiled a tiny bit even through all of the pain he was in and whispered, "Made s-sure of it-t…"

Dean's emotions suddenly took hold and he let his head fall down on Sam's chest as sobs shook him. Sam stopped himself from crying out, the added weight on his chest wasn't making breathing any easier and was thankful was Dean lifted himself from his brother.

"P-romise." Sam said in the strongest voice he could find, even though the sound was still weak and laced with death. Dean shook his head and Sam whispered, "th-then j-just promise m-me you'll w-win this w-war?"

"No, not without you." Dean said.

"Please, Dean."

Dean blinked and looked down at his brother. He was shaking more than Dean had ever seen a person shake. His eyes were glistening from unshed tears. His face was covering in blood, his breathing wet. This could be the last thing he ever asked for and he wasn't asking for help or pain medication. He was asking Dean to live, to life _for _him. Dean gently let his finger touch Sam and wipe a few tears from his face, "Ok, Sam. Promise."

Sam smiled as wide as his aching body would allow and closed his eyes, again trying to battle the pain. A moment or two passed before Sam spoke again.

"C-cold…" Sam stared but couldn't finish. Dean quickly pulled off his coat and covered his brother with it. Dean tucked the edges under his brother to add extra warmth and Sam tried his best to burrow deeper within its comfort.

"Better?" Dean whispered, his voice shaking nearly as much as the dying man's next to him.

Sam only nodded, as he focused on trying to stay awake. He was close to passing out and even though the option of having at least a couple minutes of painless rest was tempting, he couldn't leave his brother yet. The only thing Sam had left to give his brother was his final moments of life and he made damn sure he would give them to him.

"I won't let you stay there. You understand? I'll get you out of there if I have to climb down into hell to get you, ok?"

Sam opened his eyes and stared into his brother's. Dean was so determined and Sam had no strength left to fight him so simply agreed, "K, De…"

Dean stroked his brother's hair, unsure of what to say or do.

"Th-thanks…" Sam whispered.

Dean's brows knitted in confusion and asked, "What could you possibly be thanking me for?"

Sam smiled a little, "For l-letting m-me save you-u…"

Dean wanted nothing more than to let his emotions spill over and let all the pain he was holding in out but he needed to stay strong for Sam. He was sure these were his final moments.

"I'll see you soon, Sammy… Two days… Give me two days, Sammy. You won't be there for more than two days."

Sam gave no sense of recognition except whispering, "H-hope… So…" Sam took the last of his strength to reach his hand up to touch his brother's face. He excepted one last deep breath and said, "L-love you, big br-brother…"

"Lo-" Dean stopped mid-word when he saw his brother's eyes dull and his body go limp. Sam soft hand fell from his face and to his lap. Sam wasn't there anymore. He was gone.

"Sam?" Dean asked frantically. It took until his actual death for the situation to become horrifyingly real. Sam was dead. His only reason for living was gone.

Dean looked down at his brother and stared in awe at his face. His face was so surreal, so at peace.

- - - - - - -

Dean spent much of his time silent.

When the police arrived to question him about the dead man he was clutching in his arms, he remained silent.

He reserved his right.

When he was finger printed and thrown in a cell, he said nothing.

When Hendrickson arrived his vocal chords had no smart-assed remarks. His tongue had no fire.

When Hendrickson said the unspeakable word. The name of his brother he ripped the chains from the wood table and punched him so hard in the face he wouldn't be surprised if he didn't make it.

Word is he didn't.

When Bobby arrived at his cell window he just stared right through him. Bobby said nothing back.

Dean didn't ask how Bobby had gotten a hold of Sam's body. Dean didn't ask anything. They stood there before his burning body and neither said a thing, they both seemed to be perfecting this silence thing.

Bobby tried his best to get Sam to eat. Get him to do anything, go on a hunt, research, live. Dean would do nothing. As a matter of fact the only time Bobby had ever heard Dean speak was when he called his brother's name out in the dead of night.

Dean didn't bother to tell Bobby he was leaving when he loaded himself into the Impala and had a silent ride to wherever those wheels would take him.

Dean looked to the passengers side when he heard his phone ring for the first time in a long time. He picked it up and eyed the screen that read 'Bobby'. Dean pressed the green button to the left and held the phone to his ear.

"Dean?"

Dean said nothing.

"Dean I know you can hear me."

Dean stared at the steering wheel, and then said nothing.

"Please come back I'm worried about you. I know you're going through a lot… But Sam wouldn-"

Dean opened the window and threw the phone out of it.

Dean didn't even have anything to say when he crashed the Impala into a tree. He simply stepped out of the car with no injuries, and stole a car parked down the road. He emptied his arms into the trunk and slammed it.

He drove off in the fake Impala. Didn't even look back.

- - - - - - -

When Dean spoke again he said, "Room 12 please."

It had been a year. A year of silence. A year of only speaking to order food from a drive thru. A year of sleeping in the Impala and staring for hours at the empty passengers seat next to him.

The woman at the motel desk smiled at him as she handed him the key to room number 12. He slid the card across the desk and once she put it back into his hand he was gone.

He opened his room door and sat down on one of the beds. He'd picked this motel because he remembered staying here as a kid, him and Sammy. They'd sat around all day playing card games and watching movies. It was one of the best days he'd had with his brother.

But he didn't come back here to watch 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's nest' or play a game of spit.

He pulled a knife from his boot and held it close to his wrist. He was too much of a coward. He'd faces death with no problem before, but ending it himself seemed to be too much.

"Dean."

Dean looked up and fell of the bed in horror. There before him was his brother.

"Oh my-" Dean whispered, true shock spread across his face, "How…"

"It's me, Dean."

Dean shook his head, "No, no it can't be. You're not him, you're a demon… You're…"

"Dean, it's me. I swear. Just put the knife down, ok?" Sam asked.

Dean looked down at the knife and said, "Why should I?"

"Because you can't kill yourself," Sam said.

Dean laughed coldly, "Why would you care if I killed myself? You're just a demon here to mess with me."

"I'm not a demon. I'm your brother. I'm Sam." Sam said inching closer to Dean.

"No you aren't. You can't be, because Sam's in hell. He's down there all by hi-"

"No, no Dean I'm here. I'm not alive, but I'm not in hell."

"Why? How could you not be in Hell, where are you then?" Dean asked.

Sam looked to the side and then back at Dean and said, "I'm here with you now. But other than that I'm somewhere better. Somewhere where I'm at peace."

Dean said nothing just stared at the angelic image of his brother standing in front of him.

"Please, Dean. You can't kill yours elf, I'll never see you. You'll never see me again." Sam pleaded.

"Then what do you expect me to do, Sam? How do you expect me to keep living any longer?" Dean asked, now he was screaming and crying at the same time. He threw the knife across the room and quickly pulled a gun out from his belt.

"You just have to, Dean. You can't give up." Sam whispered.

"Why?"

Sam sighed as a tear slid down his face, "Because you promised."

"How'd you get out?" Dean whispered.

"Climbed."

Sam inched closer and continued towards his brother until he was right in front of him. Sam knelt down in order to be at the same height as he and pried the gun from his fingers. Dean gasped from the airy feel of his brother's hands. Like they weren't really there.

Once Sam had the gun he set it on the floor and wrapped his arms around his brother. Dean let his head fall onto his brother's shoulder as hard sobs wracked his body, tears he hadn't let shed for a year. Pain trapped inside for what seemed like forever.

"Shhh…" Sam hushed stroking the back of his brother's head, "It's ok…"

They sat like that for what seemed like lifetimes but even then it was too soon when Sam whispered, "I have to go."

Dean lifted his head and looked into his brother's eyes, "No, stay."

"I can't. But please, please. Live for me? And then I'll see you one day." Sam said.

Dean nodded and Sam stepped back, "I'll see you soon, Dean. Just remember, I'm with you. Always."

- - - - - -

Dean left that motel the same night and drove straight to Bobby's house, ready for the next hunt.

He hunted everyday, sent so many sons of bitches down stairs where he knew they would not be seeing Sam. He fought over the years until the war had been won, sending demons off the map and back into hell where they belonged.

Dean was sure he saw Sam standing there smiling when they closed the final gate.

And when they exorcised the last demon.

That's when he stopped hunting. He met a woman at a bar. Not the type of woman he used to meet, the type of woman Sam would want him to meet.

When they got married Dean could have sworn he saw Sam at the end of the isle, the same goofy grin playing across his features.

Dean's wife knew all about Sam. All about the hunt. Dean's sons only knew about the first.

His grandkids knew the same.

Then one day, one holiday after a night of games and food, Dean heard of the death of his last friend from the hunting world. They were all dead, everyone except him.

He spent the next few years of his life an eighty something year old man who still felt like twenty something. He'd stopped dreaming about Sam's death a few years ago, now he only dreamed about seeing him once again.

It was one cold night in December, maybe a week away from Christmas when Dean kissed his wife goodbye and closed his weary eyes one last time.

When he opened them again all the aches of old age were gone. The hole in his heart, filled. A cool breeze woke him up fully and he looked up to see Sam, driving the Impala down a long road. He couldn't remember a time it had run better.

Sam was back to his twenty something year old self. His unruly hair blowing in the wind just like it was meant to. His younger brother look down at him and smiled.

" 'bout time you showed." Sam said.

Dean sat up awkwardly and rubbed his eyes. His wrinkles were gone. He was back to himself.

"So this is peace?" Dean asked.

Sam looked up at Dean but said nothing.

"Never mind, If it was I'd be driving."

Sam smiled wider and chuckled.

Dean lied. This was all the peace he needed.

- - - - - -

A/N: Ok that's it. I hope it wasn't depressing because it wasn't really supposed to be. You can interpret it any way you want, there are a couple of ways you can actually now that I think of it. I hope you liked it.

BTW if you did please let me know. Click the button.

-Liliaaaaa


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